|
|
I am a big fan of crappy teen dramas. It started way back with the original “90210” and continues today with the new “90210.” When I was in the midst of my “Dawson’s Creek” phase, I wondered how these television producers could keep coming up with new teen drama plotlines. Every teenager in America goes through the same struggles. I don’t wanna lessen their trauma, but how different is the “Dawson” version of teen drinking compared to “One Tree Hill?” It’s hard to tell a story that’s already been told–at least hard to do and make it seem fresh and interesting.
Back in the original “90210” I remember losing one’s virginity was a major plotline. This theme eventually gets explored in every teen drama and to this 31-year old adult, it’s a little played out. I know I’m not the target audience of these shows, but I’m sure I’m not the only 30-something watching (and if I am, I really need to rethink my life). The shock value of teen sex is completely gone. I remember how controversial a 1991 episode of “Roseanne” was because 17-year old Becky wanted to go on birth control. Unfortunately, that sorta “shock” isn’t shocking . . . . .
Air travel is far from an exact science. I’m not much of a flyer because I rarely go anywhere. When I do, I wonder if it’s worth the inconvenience. Don’t get me wrong: if you’re traveling to Hawaii, it’s worth flying because no one has built a bridge yet. But the hoops and hassles you need to go through for short trips has me wondering if it just be easy to drive.
Passengers are required to get to the airport 90 minutes before their flight leaves. You gotta check in your bags. Worry if the bags weigh too much. Go through the gate. Take off your shoes. Be subjected to random searches. Turn on your electronics. Turn off your electronics. Getting on a plane feels like a twisted version of “Simon Says.”
I understand the need for these security steps but it’s a darn shame that everyone has to go through this because of a few bad apples. A few years ago, some idiot tried to smuggle a bomb on a plane through his shoes and now every commercial passenger is required to put their shoes through an x-ray machine. Eight years ago, a bunch of deranged idiots decided to . . . . .
Even though I have no job nor any prospects of finding a job, The Wife and I are in the midst of buying a car (and if CNN is right, we might be the only two car-buyers in America). The world economy is falling apart; everyone is scrimping and saving; I have no job–we’re a single-income family…and we still want to buy a car (which says a lot about the state of her current vehicle). This is something we talked about long before stock market Armageddon came. This was a decision we made before I lost my job. The point I’m trying to make is that we’ve need a car for a while now and is not a decision made lightly.
I’ve noticed an interesting phenomenon during our hunt–a plethora of incompetent sellers. Since we’re in the market for a used car and I think dealers are the scum of the earth (although slightly better than politicians and insurance executives), we’ve contacted quite a few private parties. I’m not expecting to meet J. Paul Getty when buying a ten-year old used car–but I’d like to meet someone who could at least put a little bit of effort and enthusiasm into . . . . .
Imagine going to the doctor with a broken leg. The first option is surgery. The second option is a cast. The third option is amputation. Which option would you choose?
My latest insurance battle went from bad to worse. It wasn’t enough for those bastards to make me suffer for three days without any medication, on top of that, those sleezeballs tried to pull a fast one. The pharmacist calls me up and tells me my prescription has been approved. But after getting home and taking the pills, I discover my prescription isn’t for what the doctor suggested last week. The insurance decided to swap out my doctor-prescribed medicine (approximate retail cost $150) for something else (exactly $83.99).
So for those keeping score at home, my doctor thinks the best medicine for me is Expensivcine. But since Expensivcine isn’t available as a generic, my insurance won’t cover it. I can’t afford paying $150 for the medicine, so my doctor suggested another medicine that is available as a generic; however, since it costs the insurance company $150, they won’t pay for it. Now I’m on a different medication–the third choice. How often in life do you opt for the third . . . . .
F@#$ f@#$ f@#$ f@#$ f@#$ f@#$ f@#$ f@#$ f@#$ f@#$ f@#$ f@#$ f@#$ .
I thought that would make me feel a little better but it does not.
My insurance tried to screwing me over (again) and I thought a good string of expletives would help me feel better. Unfortunately cursing is like bailing out GM–a lot of big words with little results. I can’t tell you how much I hate the insurance business–I must’ve written about it a dozen times now. Whenever I start talking about insurance at home, The Wife immediately tries to calm me in soothing voice because she knows I’m about to go off. That’s because insurance is a scam–a complete and total useless scam. You pay for services you never receive; you have to pay for the expensive stuff out of you pocket. It’s utterly useless. Either that or I have the world’s worst health insurance.
I’m on Expensivcine and my insurance won’t cover it. Well, they think they do–but in actuality, they don’t cover it. My insurance only covers generic medicine. If I opt to buy the brand-name version, I hafta buy it at full retail price until I reach $150. The insurance will . . . . .
With my car being about a thousand miles overdue for an oil change, I knew I needed to pick a place and pick it fast. I certainly wasn’t going to take it to a quick lube place again because they were just as much crooks as I thought they would be. My old standby use to be Wal-Mart but I noticed how they slowly creeped their prices up over the years and were getting to be just as expensive as the quick lube places. Armed with an overdue oil change and do place to go, I perused the Pennysaver in search of a decent oil change at a fair price.
I knew better than to take it to Purrfect Autocare because those guys were a more expensive rip-off version of Jip-U-Lube (instead of up-selling a $20 air filter, Purrfect pushes $300 brake jobs). I didn’t wanna walk into any mechanic with a coupon because I knew smaller mechanics would try to con me into unneeded, expensive services. I have no problem telling people “no”–I just didn’t want to deal with the hassle. On page 33 I found my answer: Meineke offered a $20 oil change (with coupon). I figured a . . . . .
On of the great aspects of the internet is it gives everyone a voice. Any schmuck–including me–can post anything they want online. It’s great insight to what makes people tick…and away to see what real people are like out there. I stumbled across a web site call ripoffreport.com. It’s a consumer advocacy site that encourages people to discuss potentially fraudulent enterprises. From lost rebates to poor customer service, consumers can share their complaints with other consumers–all in the name of warning the public.
One company that seemed to get a lot of hate was Drivetime Autosales (it also goes by the name Ugly Duckling Car Sales). The list of complaints went on and on. And as I read about a dozen of them, I failed to see a single instance where the consumer was wronged. Sure, the dealer did a lot of shady stuff–but consumers have a right to walk away. People should know better. Anyone who acts that stupid deserves any sorta rip-off that comes there way.
The majority of complaints were what you’d expect for a used car dealer. People complained about this not working or that needed repairs. Anytime you buy a used car you’re taking risks . . . . .
I’m completely upside down. If radio programming is any indication, most people prefer to listen to talk in the AM and music on the way home. Top-40 radio stations have whacky morning DJs, complete with schtick. Conversely, during the drive time talk formats are abandoned in lieu of a music-heavy format.
I’m the complete opposite. When I drive to work in the morning, I wanna hear hard music–something to wake me up and invigorate the start of my day. But when heading home, I am completely exhausted and drained. The last thing I wanna hear is hard, loud music that rattles my brain. I like talk radio because it’s easy on the ears and doesn’t take too much out of me…which appears to be the exact opposite of what any Top-40 station would play.
Either I’m a complete freak or everyone else is wrong–I’m leaning toward the latter.
As I’ve stated before, I don’t believe in carpooling. Not because I’m a cold-hearted Grinch–it’s just too much of a hassle for me. If carpooling was easy and I wouldn’t hafta stray from my routine, my opinion would be different.
I cite my life as a prime example why carpooling doesn’t work. . . . . .
I don’t watch much television outside of shows created by Jerry Seinfeld, animated by Matt Groening, or voiced by Trey Parker–so I’m not exactly the world’s foremost expert on television. There are many shows I’ve never seen. I don’t know what Colbert is reporting, who O’Reilly is factoring, or why stars are dancing. I can’t tell the difference between Larry King and Lou Dobbs. I thought Wolf Blitzer was a cook.
Even with all I don’t know, I can’t imagine there’s a bigger blowhard of hot air than the obnoxious Nancy Grace. I’ve never sat down to watch her program because I prefer my news from a more reliable source (like theonion.com); however, The Wife is a big fan of her show and since it’s on 48 times a day, I’ve managed to pick up tidbits here and there.
Nancy Grace is exactly what’s wrong with television news personalities. Hell, her show is the ultimate example of the sensationalistic nature of the media. Every episode of her show acts like it’s uncovering the greatest mystery the universe has ever seen. On screen, there’s a rolling ticker that updates whatever story she’s discussing (from her own slanted view) with the label . . . . .
I’m tempted to add the US Postal Service to my long list of banned businesses (including, but not limited to: Toys-R-Us, Purrfect Auto Care, the Walt Disney Corporation, Bank of America, Kevin Costner movies, and KFC–which has since been rescinded). That’s right: the Post Office will never get another dime out of me. Kramer was right ten years ago: the Post Office is simply an entity that outlived its time.
I was at the Post Office because I had to ship a package. When it came time to pay for the postage, the clerk refused my credit card because it wasn’t signed in the back. See, I like to think I’m smarter than the average bear. A signed credit card doesn’t protect you from fraud–hell, it just makes it easier for the criminals to pull off a heist. That’s because with a signed credit card, the deviants have an exact sample of your signature. All they gotta do is practice it at home and–viola!–a perfect forgery. But leaving a blank card is pretty foolish too because the criminal simply sign the card and make “your” signature look anyway he wants. So many years ago, I came up with a foolproof . . . . .
|
|
